Not Too Late
by CallmeCordelia1
Summary: What would have happened if Mary and her ladies had escaped through the passageways in 1x07 as planned? Henry returns to find Catherine had to defend the castle alone. Started as a one shot, I'm expanding the story per request. Some reference to violence.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Reign

AN: So this is essentially a version of what could have happened if Mary and her ladies had escaped through the passageways as planned in the episode 'Left Behind' (1x07) and Catherine was left to be her BAMF self alone.

The halls were heavy with an eerie silence and the sense that something lurked in the dancing shadows cast by torchlight. Henry hastened his pace, outstripping even the youngest and fittest among his men and hitting the door to the dining area at a run.

At the sound of screeching door hinges, Catherine's hand clenched around the dagger on the table before her. Relieved at the sight of her husband and his guards back in the castle, she allowed her eyes to droop closed. She leaned back and exhaled deeply.

"What happened?" Henry peered around, bewildered. There were a dozen bodies strewn about the stone floor in pools of blood.

Staring ahead, she attempted a laugh without managing a smile, "I made a bit of a mess."

I met Francis on the king's road. He said men had taken the castle, that everyone had made it out through the tunnels… Everyone except you."

"The boys? They're safe?" Her stare was fixed, distant.

"Everyone is safe. The rest of my soldiers are transporting them back here as we speak. Whose blood it that?"

She looked down, surveying herself. Her hands, her gown were drenched in blood. The stickiness she detected on her neck indicated that it was covered in the spray as well. She could taste it on her lips.

"His, mostly." She gestured to the dead Count that lay crumpled on the floor next to her. Henry stayed her hand as she reached to refill her goblet with wine. Jerking her hand away, she glared up at him.

He swallowed his pride, "I think you should be seen by Nostradamus."

"Why? You have never trusted him."

"I don't, but you do. Perhaps he could-"

She interrupted, looking him dead in the eye, "I trust no one."

Henry turned to the guards scattered around the room. "Remove the bodies. Start clearing the room."

"DON'T!" Catherine's hoarse shout echoed, as she spoke to the man who was now frozen in place, positioned over the fallen chest of gold. "It's poisoned."

Henry smirked as he guided her towards her chambers, her ingenuity never failed to impress him. She wobbled a bit on the steps. That and the near-empty tankard of wine indicated that she had downed more than usual. When they arrived at her chamber door, she halted.

"Much as I appreciate the escort, I believe I can manage from here."

"The servants are still straggling in, most rendered useless from terror and exposure. You're a bit… unsteady. I will help you prepare for bed."

She shot him another glare, but voiced no objection. As he began rummaging through her wardrobe in search of a nightgown, she settled herself on the window seat and stared into the night.

"I suppose you require a bath?" He was uncertain how to address her.

She laughed again, the hollow sound reverberating off the stone walls. "You wouldn't know how to begin drawing a bath."

"I will figure it out. You aren't the only one blessed with intelligence, my dear." He spoke lightly, hoping to coax her into conversation. She stared on in silence.

Henry caught a servant on the staircase and enlisted her help. She instructed him on how to prepare a bath before he dismissed her to the infirmary to seek treatment for her injured ankle. Catherine observed as the King of France worked industriously to heat the water and fill the tub one bucket at a time. Her gaze softened a bit as her husband labored for her benefit.

"There," he panted. "It's ready. It may be a bit too hot, though. Perhaps you should let it cool for a while."

She rose and tested the temperature. "It feels fine. Thank you." How long had it been since she had thanked him? How long had it been since he had done something to warrant her appreciation?

"Let's get you in then."

"I can manage from here. If you should happen upon the children or their nannies tell them that I will be along shortly."

"Once you are bathed, we can go together to check on them. I am going to stay and make sure that you are taken care of."

Suspicion clouded her countenance, "I assure you, I am fine. The amount of time it took you to draw the bath and this conversation is enough to sober anyone up."

Henry sighed, he needed to proceed with caution. "I don't mean to imply that you are drunk or incapable. I simply have some questions."

"Mary and Francis can fill you in on the details." She unpinned her hair.

"I have questions that they cannot answer."

"So a condition of my bath is that I must satisfy your curiosity? How very relaxing!" She cast her earrings at the vanity.

"Catherine, please."

What a night of firsts. First, she thanked him, now he is saying 'please'. She felt herself nod. He turned, providing her privacy as she stripped off her blood-stained clothing and slipped into the tub. He remained facing the fireplace as he spoke.

"Francis sent a rider to us. He was blessedly lucky he didn't end up strung up in the woods. He told us of this Count. I sent half the men on to suppress the peasant uprising while I led the others back here. When we encountered Francis on the road he said that Mary knew a way out through the tunnels, but you remained behind so that they could escape."

"Yes." She waited as he mulled over the events in his mind.

"You poisoned the gold? That's how they died?"

"Mmmhmm," Catherine assented as she scrubbed her blood-encrusted fingernails.

"How did you come to be covered in blood?"

"Every one of those greedy bastards clamoured for fistfuls of gold. All except Count Vincent." She held her breath and plunged into the hot water, allowing it to swallow the tears that threatened to fall.

When he heard her gasp as she reemerged he asked, "And?"

"And I killed him."

"Catherine…" He pressed his face into his hands, frustrated.

"He was furious when he realized what I'd done. He was going to… to kill me." She fought to maintain control of her breathing. "I saw the candlelight glinting off of the dagger in one of the dead men's fists. Could you fetch my robe?" She tried her best to keep her voice light.

He passed her the scarlet robe as she stepped out of the water. He hadn't meant to look. Redness stood out across her throat and arms that would surely be bruises tomorrow. Noticing his lingering gaze, she quickly donned her robe and backed away from him.

"Does that conclude your interrogation?"

"Are you alright?"

"As I said, I'm fine."

"Catherine…"

"I need to go see my children. I won't sleep until I see them safe and sound with my own eyes." She laid out a simple gown.

"Get dressed. Let's go."

"Henry, you are no lady's maid. You needn't attend to me." She hoped that this would squash the pitiful look in his eyes.

"I wish to see the boys as well… Catherine, I am not ashamed to say that I was scared today. More than scared, I was terrified. I thought I might be too late. I still fear that I am."

She seemed to ignore his every word. "Turn so I can dress."

Catherine raced through the hallways, her mind intently focused on seeing her boys. She couldn't explain it but the weight in her chest swelled with every step. Rounding the last corner she collided with her oldest son. Rather than pulling back she enveloped him in a tight embrace. He laid his cheek on top of her head, hugging her back.

"Mother, I'm so glad you're alright."

"Has everyone returned safely?"

"Yes. The boys are in bed. Mary has all of her ladies in her chambers, even Olivia. She is so gracious and clever. How she figured out those tunnels is beyond me. The servants are back and Bash has been released from the tower. They are all a bit shaken, but will recover."

"And you?"

"I'm just fine, mother. You know, Mary talks as though you're a saint now." His eyes shone playfully.

"She's right, I am." She teased, "And you talk as though she's an angel." Catherine kissed his cheek before letting him go.

"Mama!"

As they stepped into the little boys' chambers, Catherine saw a flash of blonde as she was nearly tackled by Little Henry. She swept him up in her arms and cradled him against her chest. She stooped and kissed Charles' brow and then smoothed little Henry's hair out of his face to plant a kiss on his. Sitting on the edge of the bed with Henry nestled in her lap and Charles on his father's knee she comforted her little boys with snuggles and warm words.

Little Henry scooted himself around in her lap to face her and raised himself up on his knees. He placed his tiny wet lips in his mother's brow.

"Thank you, darling. What was that for?" Her children had always kissed her cheek.

"Whenever I'm upset you kiss me _right_ there." He pointed to his brow, "So I kissed you there. Why are you upset? Are you scared because of the bad men?"

Catherine smiled, blinking quickly, and lifted his chin to meet his gaze. "I could never be anything but happy when I look into these beautiful eyes."

Never wanting to miss out on mother's love, Charles took her hand and rested in both of his. She ran her hand through his hair, "Or this dashing smile."

An hour later all four were huddled together in one bed. Little Henry's lashes fluttered against Catherine's chest. Charles was cradled into her side and had hold of his father's hand. The two little ones slept soundly in the comfort of their parent's arms.

Catherine opened her eyes as the tips of Henry's fingers whispered across her skin. "I didn't know this kind of peace was real." He gently twisted a ringlet through his fingers.

She gave him a small, but genuine, smile. "You're not too late, Henry."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Reign

AN: Sooo I was overwhelmed and inspired by the supportive feedback of the reviewers, followers, and favouriters (a word created by LinaOso). I had several requests to expand this from a one-shot into a series. I was hesitant to continue it, so let me know your thoughts. My thanks to the darling LinaOso for assisting me! This one has a bit of violence, so beware. I hope you all enjoy!

The click of her heels resounds off the stone. Retracing the plan in her head, reassuring herself that her sons will soon be safely away, she steadies her pace. As she lifts the lid, greed leaps into their eyes. She smiles as the gold reflects the torchlight, an omen of the fires of Hell. Seated, she watches out of the corner of her eye as each man unknowingly seals his fate. But the Count scarcely acknowledges the gold. What value could gold have in the wake of his loss? Her heart flutters with fear and empathy. No! Compassion has no place in this night. His heart may be broken, but hers must be stone.

Mid-feast she can hear Mary explaining her 'predicament' to the Count. She doesn't dare acknowledge the girls departure, instead offering Count Vincent more wine. If he were to get drunk… but no, he declines.

A glance at the hourglass reveals that the time is near. It's difficult to swallow, but she must keep up this charade. She must give the poison time to work. Pretending to listen to the bearded man across from her, she calculates how to kill the count. _He'll be armed, but alone… God willing._ _What if the poison doesn't… No, it will work!_ Lost in her thoughts, the man's chuckle echoes sending a shiver up her spine. Another swig of wine. She hears Vincent sending his man to retrieve Mary and her ladies. She checks the hourglass, it's so close. A prayer goes up. _Let it work. _

He storms in. "They're gone! Everyone's gone!"

She can feel their eyes on her. Feigning slight annoyance she says, "If you checked Mary's room, they must be in Lady Kenna's chambers. I can direct you-"

"They aren't here!" Around the room, men begin to stand. One threateningly claps his dagger down upon the table.

Vincent's voice is dangerously low, "You will tell me where they've gone, one way or another." She can feel her hands moisten, her chest tightens, her pulse is frantic. _Let it work. Let it work. Work, damn it!_

"Milord!" He looks up. Blood is cascading down their fronts, so much blood. They try to stop the flow, but their efforts are futile. Death is calling. They wither before her, gargling and gasping. Their motionless forms are heaped against the flagstone. The stench of blood lies stagnant in the air. She fights the urge to heave. Now is not the time for weakness.

"How…?" He can't quite form the question.

"Poison is an art, and the essence of art is surprise*." She smiles brazenly at her success.

For a moment, he is stunned into silence. As she reaches for the sharp utensil, she sees the fury invade his features. His hand is on the hilt. She hears the slide of metal on metal as he unsheathes his sword. Instantly she aims to imbed the two-pronged fork in his neck, but she's too slow. Caught off guard, he drops the sword, but he has her hand. Twisting it behind her back, he slams her into the table face down. She screams as he wrenches her arm harder. He presses his full weight against her as he leans to whisper in her ear.

"France has destroyed me, now you will know suffering as I do."

He flips her over and pins her with his forearm across her throat. Retrieving his dagger from his belt, he dangles it over her face. As he leans in towards her again, she forces her thumb into his eye socket. A shout of pain rings out as his hands rush to cover his injured eye. The dagger clatters, but before she finds her footing he has her by the hair. She winces as her head makes contact with the table. His calloused hands enclose around her neck. Digging her nails into his flesh and wriggling in desperation, her lips part in a silent scream.

"This will take a while." His smile is vacant, dead. He eases the pressure on her airway just enough for her to get a breath, before compressing again.

Thrashing beneath him, she tugs with all of her strength at his powerful fingers. Thoughts assault her mind in rapid succession. Who will take care of her children? Who will protect them? Will Henry miss her, even a little? Would he know how much love had always existed beneath her walls of resentment?

Something glinting in her periphery brings her back into focus. The dagger! Her hand shoots out in pursuit of her only lifeline. Wriggling and stretching, her fingers close around the hilt and in one fluid motion she sinks it in the side of his neck, just below the jaw. Vincent's eyes meet hers revealing a flash of gratitude. This is what he wants, she is reuniting him with his son. Withdrawing the dagger, she feels the warm spray across her face and neck, the gush spilling over her hands, as his body slumps on top of her.

Catherine awoke with a jolt, chest heaving. Henry was standing over her, his features disclosing a mix of fear and sympathy. Charles was clinging to him, staring at his mother with wide eyes and a furrowed brow. Little Henry sobbed into the pillow next to her.

AN: So, not a warm and fuzzy way to end the chapter, but have faith. I hope you all enjoyed. Your feedback is always welcome!

*actual line from the show (1x07)


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Reign. Thanks again to Lina for proofing!

Stroking his back, Catherine did her best to calm her little one. "Shhhh, it's alright, darling. Mama's right here." She held him to her chest and rocked slowly.

He could barely speak as sobs wracked his body, "Mama, y- you screamed and w-wouldn't be still. You s-scared me." Guilt surged within her as her little one trembled in her arms. A glance at Charles revealed him still frozen at his father's side.

She put on a smile, "I'm sorry, sweet boy. It's probably payback for all those times you scared your poor mother." When she tickled his knee, his sob burst into a laugh.

His giggle helped to assuage her fears, "Like w-when I hid behind your curtain and jumped out like, 'AAHHHH'?" He bounced in her lap as he demonstrated.

"Yes, or the time you brought a frog inside concealed in your pocket."

"That was a good one! I brunged so you could kiss it, like in the stories." He lowered his voice to a quite audible whisper, "The frog is a prince."

She whispered loudly, "I already married _my_ prince." And with that she shot a wink to her husband, hoping to dispel his concerns.

"Charles, come here, sweetheart." She reached for him.

His momentary hesitation broke her heart. He looked up at his father, who gave him an encouraging smile, before tucking into Catherine's embrace. She tried to kiss away the worried creases on his brow.

"Everything's alright now, Charles." He wrapped both arms around her and she felt a hot tear against her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, darling. I'm sorry I scared you."

After plenty of light, happy stories and numerous reassurances, the boys finally slipped back to sleep. Her husband's eyes were closed and his slow, rhythmic breathing indicated that he was also dozing. Catherine sat on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands. His strong, warm arms wrapped around her from behind and his chin rested on her shoulder. _Hmmm… Evidently he's not asleep._

Holding her to him, he allowed her to quietly collect herself before he spoke softly, "Would that I could know your thoughts."

"Just thinking how big these crazy beasts are getting." She spoke in a playful whisper.

He turned her face to look her in the eyes, "I'm here for you, Catherine. Tell me the truth."

The affection in his gaze was so intense and disarming, "I just can't believe that I frightened them like that." She tucked the covers closer around them. "Charles was afraid of me. He was too scared to approach me." She turned away.

"He was not afraid of you, he was afraid _for_ you. You have shielded them from the evils of this life and they have never seen your vulnerability… Few have." His lips softly grazed the shadow of bruising on her neck. "You can be vulnerable with me."

She went rigid in his arms, "Don't."

"You said that I wasn't too late…"

"And I meant it… But you can't ask me to lay my heart exposed at your feet. I love you, Henry. I will always want you this close. When you are near the darkness dissipates." She leaned back into him, "Only to return tenfold when you leave. I love that you want to care for me, but I won't be one of your rescues, Henry." Facing him, "I am alright." Seeing his disbelief, "Or rather, I will be alright. Your wife is quite adept at brushing it off and pressing on. I know you want to be here for me, but the last things I need are questions and promises."

His mind raced. _What can I do? _The accuracy of her words hit him in the pit of his stomach. He was great at storming in to save the day. It was so validating to play the noble hero in the moments of crisis. It never occurred to him to stay once the immediate danger had passed. Instead he always departed in the haze of his glorious rescue. Why had he never considered that she might need him in small moments, in the quiet battles?

She didn't want his words, so instead he pulled her into his lap, holding her to him. Never in all their years of marriage had he held her in this way. No romance, no seduction or playfulness. His embrace asked nothing of her, but offered her the warmth and protection of a purer love than they had ever shared before.

With her cheek resting against him she found security in the strong beat resonating from his chest into her. Her head rose and fell with his deep breathing.

There they sat until the soft glow of the horizon heralded the morning. Turning, Catherine buried her face his chest, not wanting to face the light of day. She remained in his arms, hiding from the world until a small hand wriggled into hers.

"Charles," She whispered with a smile. She slid from her husband's grasp, "Did you get enough sleep, sweet boy?" She searched his eyes. _Was he still afraid?_

"Yes, Mama." He smiled at her happiness. Maybe he only imagined her thrashing and crying last night. She seemed untroubled now. "Father," there was a hint of surprise in his voice. "You stayed here with us all night?"

Another well-deserved blow to his stomach, "Yes, sir, I did. I wanted to be here when you woke up. I have a very important question for you, Charles." He placed a hand on each of his son's shoulders in mock seriousness, "Charles, do you want to accompany me on a ride today?"

Charles's eyes danced excitedly, "Truly, Father? May I? Just us two?"

"Yes, I must meet with the council this morning, but as soon as that is over I'm all yours. We'll make an afternoon of it."

Catherine smiled at her boys making big plans, loving Henry all the more for making her son smile like that. Charles kissed his mother and sprinted off to ready himself for an afternoon with father.

Seeing her worried gaze fall upon their sleeping little one, Henry decided to take her mind somewhere else. Taking her by both shoulders, just as he had done Charles, "Catherine, I have a very important question for you." He gave her his most serious tone.

Catherine's heart dropped. _He won't let it go._

"Catherine, do you like it when I go like this?" He tugged her against him with one arm and tickled her side. She squirmed and tried fruitlessly to suppress her laughter.

"Catherine, why aren't you answering me? Won't you answer your king, darling?" He finally let go, dodging her swat.

"You're insane!" She was still laughing, "Go tend to your council lest they die of boredom before you get there."

"Oh, the meeting will be anything but boring for a change."

She gave him an inquiring glance.

"In this meeting, Guise will try to convince me not to have him flayed. He was given explicit instructions to send half of his men here to protect you all in the absence of my guards. Because of his failure to follow very simple instructions, I nearly lost everything…" His voice caught in his throat. A deep breath, "I'm going to get to the bottom of it."

He rarely allowed his emotions to get the best of him, "You have made Charles' day, you know. You are his hero."

_If only I could be your hero._

AN: I hope you all enjoyed! Xoxoxo


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Reign

AN: Sorry the update took a while. This chapter just would not come to me. Anyway, this is later the same day as chapter 3.

"Charles darling, where are your other boots?" Catherine called, crouching to peer under the bed, "Ah! Found them. They're in here, Charles!"

He bounded in, that same ecstatic smile never leaving his face. Putting his boots on, he chattered ceaselessly about all of the things he and his father would do and see.

She laughed, "Wrong foot, Charles. You have to come back down to earth long enough to get dressed properly."

"Oh, right! But don't you think there will be boars out today? Or maybe a stag? Father will be so impressed at how well I ride, don't you think? He's never seen me ride before. Do you th-"

"Mama, why can't I go with Papa and Charles?" Little Henry interrupted with a pout that was almost too much for his mother to resist.

"Because, sweet boy, you can't leave Mama all alone." He stuck his lip out further and crossed his arms, as she sat down next to him, "Besides, I have a special adventure planned for the two of us."

His disgruntled features lit up, as he hopped into her lap. "What is it?!"

She looked away, teasing him, "Hmmm… I don't know if I should tell you yet, maybe I'll keep it a surprise."

He took her face in his little hands as she frequently did to him, "No, Mama! Tell me, please! I don't like surprises."

"Yes, you do. You just don't like waiting." She kissed the tip of his nose, "But I will tell you. You and I are going to have a picnic."

"Yay!" In his enthusiasm little Henry nearly unseated his mother.

"You haven't even heard the best part. Just this once, it is going to be a most unwholesome picnic. All of your favourite treats are being prepared as we speak!"

With a whoop little Henry leapt to his feet and danced about the room.

Charles was fidgeting with excitement as he took her hand, "Mama, we can't be late. Hurry up, Henry!"

The trio, led by Charles, set off towards the king's chambers at a jumbled trot. As they neared the door, however, the sound of shouting erupted from the room. Charles stopped cold, giving his mother a tentative look. Catherine waved the little boys back and approached the door in time to hear her husband berating some poor soul.

"It was your responsibility! YOU ABANDONED HER! What kind of man, what kind of son-"

That was all she needed to hear. She could feel the heat rising in her, hear her blood thundering through her veins. A deafening crash rang out as the door collided with the stone wall. Fists clenched, she strode into the room, discovering her husband and son standing toe to toe. She observed her husband, red-faced from bellowing at their son. Henry had a special talent for inflicting shame and degradation, but he was greatly mistaken if he believed that he could target her son without incurring her retribution.

"Francis, take your brothers downstairs." Catherine's stare bore into Henry, "I'll be down shortly."

Francis didn't need to be told twice. With the door closing behind him, he hustled the boys away lest they be privy to the impending uproar.

Catherine's fury emanated from her, "How dare you speak to MY SON like that? He acted upon _my _instructions. If you take issue with the way the situation was handled you will confront the source."

He stepped towards her, "He should not have aband-"

"No! Unlike you, Francis respects me, he listens to me. _You_ accuse _Francis_ of abandonment! You, who haven't a tenth of his loyalty, accuse our son of desertion after _he_ got our people out. _He_ led them to safety."

"I don't give a damn about the safety of servants! You are my priority!" With a shaky breath, he attempted to calm himself. He reached to soothe her.

"_This_ week." She swatted his hand away, "_This_ week I'm you priority. _This_ week you care. And why is that, Henry? You behave as though I am one of your many trinkets that mean nothing until lost or broken. Only then do I matter."

"No, Catherine! You always matter."

"I always matter to my son, to my children, but I know you wouldn't have stayed the night with us, wouldn't even be standing here if you hadn't been threatened with losing me."

"That isn't what this is…" He searched for the words, needing her to understand, "I just can't believe that Francis-"

"-did as his mother bid him. That would shock you, a powerful man deigning to listen to the advice of someone wiser than he is. It's revolutionary!"

"Catherine…"

"You are truly your father's son. Just push him away, only speak to him to chastise. I'd prefer it if you would go back to pretending he doesn't exist. Really, Henry, it's as though you want him to hate you." She turned and departed, leaving the sting of her precision behind.

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Catherine emerged on the lawn to a sight that brought a candid smile to her face. Francis was being pursued by two handsome knights armed with toy swords. Finally allowing them to tackle him, Francis laid sprawled in the grass as Catherine approached.

"Alright," Francis panted. "I think Charles is 'it' now."

"Ahhh!" Charles bolted with little Henry on his heels.

Catherine waited for Francis to stand, but he merely sat up and gestured for her to join him in the grass. Shooting him a withering glance, she gracefully descended and smoothed her gown.

"Francis…"

"Mother, I know that you will always defend me, but he was right."

Shaking her head, "No, Franci-"

"Mother, I should not have let you remain behind. I still can't even believe that I did." Burying his face in his hands, he looked just like her little boy again. "Had I to do again, I would stay."

"Francis. Francis, look at me. What you did was exactly right. You behaved like a king last night, leading your people to safety. Without a leader, chaos and panic would have ensued. When that happens, ultimately lives are lost. You must realize that you did your part, just as I did mine. There will never come a day when I shy away from the dirty work. No one else could do what had to be done."

"But the risk was too great! While I was liberating servants, you bore the Count's wrath. It was my suggestion that he take me, if I hadn't made such an offer you would not have put yourself in such a perilous situation."

Her eyes glistened, "I am your mother and I will always protect you."

His gaze drifted to the top of her high collar where handprints stood out on her ivory skin, "But who was there to protect you?"

Lifting his chin, "I am just fine. Count Vincent's actions had nothing to do with you. From the moment he seized the castle I knew one of us would taste the brimstone before dawn." She covered his hand with hers and squeezed it, lightening her tone. "I would slaughter all of Naples for you and don't you ever forget that."

"Father!" Charles' jubilant voice rang out.

Rising, Catherine squared off against her approaching husband. Francis stood as well, lightly gripping her shoulder.

Henry tousled his little boys' hair, "Look at how quick you two are! Let's see your sword arms." They eagerly flexed, as he felt each of their biceps in turn, "Whoa! Strong and fast, you will make fine knights! I have a mission for you. I wonder if you boys could gather me exactly a dozen red flowers?"

Off they sprinted, stumbling over one another to find red blooms.

Henry was hesitant, "If I may, Francis, I would like to speak with you."

Catherine's voice rang out before her son could agree. "Your ranting will have to wait. Francis was just leaving, everyone's schedule is quite full today."

"I won't take much of his time... or yours." He turned his attention to Francis, "I should not have spoken as I did. It is not you that I am angry with…" His eyes found Catherine's, "it is myself. You were not to blame."

Francis nodded, unsure how to surmount the wall that had always isolated them.

Little Henry approached clutching four poppies in his hand. "Francis, come help me. I can't find any more and Charles is winning."

Watching her boys canvass the grounds for blossoms, a smile crept unconsciously across her face followed by the pain of knowing how close she had come to losing them.

The weight of his remorse hit him as he watched Francis trot off. _He grew up when I wasn't looking. _"I don't know how we got here. I never saw it coming."

"I could construct a timeline for you. Maybe that would clear a few things up." The guilt he placed on Francis was too fresh in her mind.

"I just… I knew that I had failed you, I didn't realize that I had destroyed any chance at being a decent father."

A glance at his face pierced her heart, "Henry… your failures stem directly from your lack of effort. You still have time to be a wonderfulfather, _if_ that's what you want. The little ones, they still believe you hung the stars. And Francis… his heart is so good. It will take some effort, he has felt your rejection for most of his life, but he is so very worth it."

"Sounds like someone else I know." He nudged her playfully.

With an eye roll and an exasperated sigh, she turned to go. _Is there nothing that he takes seriously? _

Still unsure, his hand stopped just short of touching her. "Catherine, wait. I was hoping to ask the advice of one much wiser than I am."

She faced him with an unreadable expression.

He removed his cloak and spread it on the ground and gestured for her to sit. "If you don't mind?"

"What has happened?" She wouldn't meet his pleading eyes.

"It's the Duke of Guise." His anger seethed at the mention of the name.

"What is it, Henry? Tell me."

"That bastard! He sent my messenger back to say he had 'urgent business' to attend to at his northern estate and that he will not be able to attend court. He scurried away in the night like the rat he is. I'm riding out with six soldiers today and I'll return with his mangled body dancing behind my horse."

"No, Henry, you can't. You can't just go executing the gentry without evidence, without witnesses. It would threaten the legitimacy of France's justice and the nobles _will_ rise against us. I have seen it." She paused, letting her words sink in. Her eyes followed a certain boy who was trying desperately to catch his father's attention, "Besides, you promised Charles a ride and if you go back on your word he will be devastated."

"I will send men after Guise. He will answer for his failure! I... Catherine, I know that I have cast away every reason for you to trust me. Even now when I'm trying to remedy the mistakes of the past, all I do is make new ones. I know you think that my affection for you is solely the result of last night's…"

"Yes." Rigid posture, eyes cold, she was his ice queen again.

"I will admit that the thought of you in danger, it awakened a fear and a love in me that I have suppressed for a great long while."

"Don't, Henry." Her voice was on edge. He could feel her retreating, slipping through his fingers.

"Please, Catherine, let me say this and I will say no more." She closed her eyes, but maintained her silence. "I have loved you my entire life. I have never shown you the love that you deserve, never honoured and cherished you for the person that you are, but I swear to you on all that is holy, I will do whatever it takes to keep you and our family safe. Every day I will prove your value to you. I will remain here, if you wish, but he will answer for his blunder."

Choosing to ignore his protestations of love, "Are you sure that it was a blunder? The Count, he knew when you were leaving and where you were going." Her mind raced. _Someone had to disclose that information. Perhaps his failure was intentional, Guise certainly had a motive. Of course, his banishment fueled a quiet resentment in him, but it would have taken someone inside the castle, someone who knew the King's plans…_

"I hadn't considered that he would do such a thing. The deceitful son of a bitch!" He was the embodiment of rage, knuckles white, pulse bulging, eyes flashing.

"We don't know that it was deliberate. Henry, we cannot act on impulse. You asked my advice, there it is. I will do what I can to uncover the nature of his involvement, but that will require _you_ to trust _me_. Now take your son for a ride, he hasn't stopped staring at you since you arrived."

AN: Well, there it was. I hope everyone enjoyed! Thanks again to Lina for all of the advice and encouragement!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I still don't own Reign

AN: I am so sorry for taking so long to update. I hope it was worth the wait. This chapter takes place just after the scene in 1x08 "Fated" when Kenna informs Catherine of the legitimization.

Flicking her wrist Catherine distractedly dismissed the Lady Kenna. Pacing, the Queen's thoughts were no longer plagued with the question of 'who?' Now she contemplated 'how?' How would she attain proof of Diane's involvement in Count Vincent's plot? Of course Diane was the informant! How had she overlooked something that was so glaringly obvious in hindsight? Kenna had enlightened her of Diane's attempts to have Sebastian legitimized, oblivious to the true significance of her news.

Catherine's investigation had been directed at generals and councilmen, never considering that the woman that she had known and loathed the whole of her marriage was once again responsible. Who had more to gain? With Henry's sons by Catherine gone, his beloved mistress and favourite son would have presented the ideal solution to the problem of Henry's heirs. _That woman _had collaborated to have her boys held, likely murdered, to advance and secure her own position. Diane made a fatal mistake in threatening the lives of her children, her greatest treasures. The time to reap would come and Catherine would guarantee that whore knew the meaning of _agony_. Catherine's nails were digging crescent shaped trenches in her palms. She let out the breath she didn't realize that she was holding. Swallowing her anger, Catherine fought against the storm that threatened to engulf her. Vengeance requires proof. Diane's crimes would be dealt with publicly, revealing to the realm what she has always been, a ruthless social climber who possessed twice as much gall as wit.

Several members of the Queen's Flying Squad were summoned. "Charlotte, you will monitor Diane de Poitiers' correspondence for any communication with the House of Guise or Venetian nobility. You, Genevieve, will search her rooms for the same. Patrice, you are charged with her surveillance. You will inform me who she sees, what she says, even words spoken in confession. I need not remind you three that your efforts are to be covert. Succeed and you will know my generosity, fail and you _will _regret it."

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Although there was only one talent in particular for which the members of the Flying Squad were known, Catherine's faith in her ladies was not misplaced. By the afternoon of the following day Genevieve slipped into the Queen's chambers and presented Her Majesty with a torn bit of parchment discovered in Diane's room.

Reading the bit of correspondence thoroughly, Catherine placidly folded it. "You've done well, but there is more to this. Find the rest of the message and do it quickly."

Watching the door swing closed behind her lady, Catherine sauntered over to the large oak desk in the corner of the room. She concealed the incriminating letter in a hidden compartment at the back of one drawer which was subsequently locked.

By the end of the second day, the rest of the puzzle pieces had been recovered. Five in total, the scraps of parchment lay scattered before her. Catherine had stared at them until the cramped script ran together. These correspondences would have been enough to condemn both Diane and Guise, if presented to an unbiased judge. Henry was nothing if not biased in favour of Diane. For all his claims of devotion for herself, Catherine knew his loyalty to Diane was insurmountable. Glaring at the useless evidence, she wracked her brain in search of something irrefutable, something that would not pale in light of Diane's infinite charm. She had to get her hands on the priest that Diane had been going through to secure the legitimization. If she could present the evidence, using him as a witness, to Henry in the presence of the council and clergy, there was a chance of justice.

Compensated and sent on their ways, Catherine's 'special ladies' made to depart. Opening the door they came face to face with the King of France. Patrice's gaze flicked over her shoulder for just a moment.

Spreading her skirts widely as she dipped into her curtsy, Charlotte spoke louder than was strictly necessary, "Good day, Your Grace." Henry's eyes darted past her ladies just in time to observe her tucking something into her desk drawer.

Catherine, stowing the messages beneath the false-bottom of her desk drawer, made a mental note to reward Charlotte for her cunning.

Her voice lightly sprinkled with sarcasm, "Hello, Henry. Just back from the hunt? I thought perhaps I was going to have to negotiate for your release if you didn't return soon." She made her way towards him as she spoke, intent on ushering him out.

"Yes, some of those young lords are too impatient for accuracy and too proud to yield. I thought we would never get a boar. What have you been up to?"

His tone was indifferent, but she knew better.

"Oh, just managing nonsense: ridiculous questions from artists, issues with the new tutor, requests for positions at court... It's tedious to say the least, but enough of that. I was just going to stop by the nursery and check on the boys. If you aren't busy maybe you can join us?" Linking her arm through his, she led him towards the door.

"Allow your husband to share your burdens. If I may look over the-" He turned towards the desk.

Her grip tightened, "Very well, you caught me. I have been making arrangements for your name day celebration next month."

"Show me."

With an annoyed scowl, she reached in the drawer. She dropped a document of detailed orders for a banquet into his hand. "Are you satisfied now that you have spoiled the surprise?"

"Oh!" He replied, feigning repentance. "Forgive me, Catherine." Placing the document on the desktop, Henry remained unconvinced.

She waved off the apology, "The boys were asking after you earlier. Care to join me?" She prayed that he would comply and leave her chambers.

He turned to depart, "Bash sent word that he needed to speak with me, but I'll be there directly."

As the door swung closed behind them, she felt her apprehension lifting. "Charles was hoping to 'spar' with you if you aren't too exhausted."

"That's too good an offer to turn down!" He called before he disappeared around the corner.

Walking a distance, Catherine paused on the staircase and double backed to her chambers with the intention of better securing the evidence. She stopped short as she observed Henry rummaging through her desk.

"Surprise." Her voice was heavy with sarcasm.

And surprised he was. "Catherine!" He hastily shut the drawer he had been raiding. "You were… I mean, I didn't…"

"Expect to see me back so soon?" She finished for him. "No, I can see that." Stepping closer, Catherine's eyes scanned the desktop in the hopes that the letters were still concealed. Henry opened the next drawer, continuing his hunt.

Thumbing through a stack of documents, "I know you're hiding something from me. If you could relent from keeping me in the dark for a moment it would be a blessed miracle!"

"I cannot imagine why I would want to shield anything from you. It instills such trust when you invade my privacy!"

Exasperated, he dropped the handful of papers to the floor. "I wouldn't have to invade your privacy if you were honest with me! What is it you're hiding?"

"Fine!" She snatched the drawer open, leaving the organized contents in disarray. Thrusting the wad of messages into his chest, "Read them."

As his eyes scanned the documents, Catherine could not suppress the shudder as cold dread froze her veins. All of her cards were on the table. In his hands lay every shred of proof she had. Henry would never accept the guilt of his bewitching mistress.

"Diane…" Henry's face drained of colour, as numbness permeated to his very core.

"You have conditioned her to believe that nothing was out of her reach, a lesson that she and I both took to heart." Catherine became acutely aware of the weight of the crown she wore, the one Diane desired. "She conspired to remove myself and our children from her path, knowing that her success would afford her the title that she has operated under these many years." Catherine stared him down, bracing herself for the onslaught of his rage at her having the audacity to regard his mistress with suspicion.

The shock began to dissipate and his hands shook with fury. Needing the release, he swung at the window and saw Catherine recoil in anticipation of his blow. Henry stared into the distance, blood dripping from his still shaking fist.

His temper was legendary, but shouting could not instill fear in the ice queen. In fact, she loved being able to affect him in such a way. Each shade of his passion was magnetizing. She had always been able to read him, thoughts, motivations, emotions, but now his silence unsettled her. Now he seemed feral, unpredictable. Moments crept by, but when at last he spoke the word sat like lead in her chest.

"Treason."

AN: Thanks again to Lina, my wonderful beta! Also thank you to my lovely reviewers, followers, and favouriters! Xo!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Reign

AN: The delineated middle section is a flashback stemming from events in the previous chapter

Catherine moved like a ship adrift, allowing her ladies to direct _her_ for once. When she was bid to raise her arms, lift her chin, step into her heels, the Queen submitted in an obedient haze. All of these tasks felt quite mundane in light of the scene from the previous morning that replayed through her mind.

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"Treason."

Her stomach fluttered and it suddenly seemed that the air was too thin. Of course, he wouldn't accept a word against his darling mistress. Diane was untouchable, it was irrational to think otherwise. Her husband would side with his mistress over his wife, _once again, _only this time it would cost Catherine more than her happiness. Her throat was dry, but her tone remained unaffected. "So what's it to be then? Exile or beheading?"

"Exile?" Henry's voice broke into a humourless laugh. "I think not! Even beheading is far too lenient, too merciful." His stared was still fixed, distant.

_Burned or beheaded at the King's pleasure_. As the sentence for treason rang through her mind, Catherine unconsciously picked at her already raw cuticles until they bled. She would maintain her composure, ever a Medici. Her death would cause great jubilation amoung the French, they had never forgiven her for her name and origins. They would come in droves to watch Madame Serpent die, but she would never allow them a glimpse behind the mask. In pomp and style, she would ascend the scaffold and wear a smirk into her grave. Say what they like, cowardice was one charge that would never stick.

"In the meantime, is it to be the tower or my chambers?" Her gaze was hard, in spite of the half smile that graced her lips.

He looked up at her, shaking his head in confusion. His mind was still reeling from the jolt of this newfound reality. "What?"

Annoyed at having to repeat herself, Catherine carefully enunciated the question, "Where am I to be confined to prior to the execution?"

"Catherine…" She retreated from his touch. "You think I mean to blame you? That I am accusing you of treason?" She refused to be coerced by the honest desperation in his eyes. Henry often had sincere intentions, but she couldn't begin to number the forsaken promises that created the chasm between them.

"You certainly don't mean to execute Diane?" She maintained her distance, physically, emotionally.

Henry, it seemed, was unable to censor his thoughts as they poured forth from his lips. "Diane, we had built a life together. I never denied her anything. From the time I was an inexperienced youth she always stroked my ego, always sowed the seeds of praise, and in return I offered her every bit of my trust and affection…"

By this time he was pacing with his head in his hands. "This same woman, her sins now laid bare, is revealed as a traitor in every sense. Her betrayal... She orchestrated a plot that endangered our family and threatened my line. With bloodstained hands and a smiling face that _wench_ would have waited for me to give her the crown she so desired…and I would have given it to her." She watched as he leaned over, nearly heaving. Composing himself, Henry continued to spill his unobstructed stream of thoughts. "With a heart full of gratitude to the woman who supported me in my grief, I would have secured my line and placed your crown upon her head."

He choked on the words, with his eyes Henry implored her to somehow reassure him that they were untrue, a feat that she could not accomplish. "Diane would soon be relieved of that head if I was a benevolent man. Benevolence is a luxury that I will not extend to the woman for whom I have sacrificed my first chance at happiness and who nearly robbed me of my second chance. She is guilty and she _will _be held accountable!" He moved closer to Catherine at a gradual pace, not daring to reach for her again. "You… It is by God's grace and your courage that I have anything left. Catherine, I don't understand why you would not come to me with this." He opened his fist, allowing the proof of Diane's treason to fall from his fingers, and leaned against the desk to steady himself.

For a moment her sense of foreboding was superseded by the desire to laugh at his density. He had just expounded upon every incentive she had to keep him at arm's length. "You cannot think of a single reason that I would withhold this dangerous truth from you?"

"You…you fear me? You're afraid to be honest with me… afraid that I blame you… " Although he was speaking the words, his mind was still grasping for understanding.

Unable to look upon the devastation of the man she loved, Catherine stared at the crumpled evidence, "Years of marriage have justified my distrust."

Rather than lifting her chin, forcing her to look up, Henry knelt before her. Raising his eyes, he met her startled gaze. "In the years to come I will give you plenty of cause to trust me."

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Even now, as she prepared for the banquet, she doubted. Holding her breath, she waited for Henry to rush in, accuse her of committing forgery, and sweep away with Diane on his arm. Declaring a "truce" was not an uncommon occurrence in their marriage, but this time felt entirely different. His terms and motivations were unclear. His protestations of love, his _pretty lies_ as she deemed them, had ceased. Following the revelation, Henry had Diane imprisoned in a tower cell to await trial and a messenger had been dispatched bearing a summons for the Duke of Guise. The message related that failure to comply would result in the Crown's immediate seizure of all lands and titles and he would be returned to Court by force. All signs indicated that Henry was intent on justice, but the persistent knot in her stomach reminded her that they had been down the road of reconciliation before. Henry had proven himself to be a poor investment for her trust.

The lords who had attended the hunt the day prior were to dine with their royals that evening. Catherine glided easily down the stairs, her silver-grey gown skimming the ground with each step, but she jerked to a halt on the threshold of the dining hall. All at once, her vision tunneled and her hand developed a tremor as she steadied herself against the door frame. Her senses were assaulted by sounds of the raucous laughter of the men within, the smell of wine, the newly placed rug that she knew covered bloodstains… In her mind's eye she could see the faces of each Italian man who now rotted in a mass grave. The Queen had not entered this room since slaughter of the Count and his men, justifying her avoidance with the excuse that the dining hall was only used for formal occasions. Never would she admit to the trepidation, the quickening of her pulse, she experienced when she passed too near this hall. Now she could feel beads of sweat forming on her brow. Acid stung her throat. Catherine jerked away as a hand came to rest upon her shoulder.

She could hardly make out his words, over the ringing in her ears. "Mother, you don't look well. Are you alright?" When her eyes at last came into focus, she looked up into her son's worried face.

"Yes, Francis… Well, actually…" Swallowing, she forced herself to continue. "I am not sure that I'm up for tonight's festivities. If you will convey my apologies, I will retire for the evening."

"Certainly, but is there anything I can get you?" She could hear strains of concern in his voice and focused on keeping her manner light, willing herself to remain conscious.

"No, darling." She patted his chest. "This day has been demanding and I'm sure our young guests will scarcely notice my absence."

"Alright… if you're sure?" Francis hesitated, scrutinizing her pallor suspiciously.

With a flippant wave of her hand, "I'm sure."

"Then I will check on you later." He removed his hand, but waited to ensure that she could manage on her own.

Francis held her gaze until, at last, he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as she could be certain not to attract unwanted attention, Catherine slipped quickly into the nearby storage cupboard. Plopping down, as her field of vision narrowed, Catherine closed her eyes and drew long, steadying breaths. Her hands trembled from cold and shock and she placed her chilly fingertips lightly over her pulse points.

_They're safe, they're safe, they're safe, they're safe. _She recited it under her breath, making it her mantra. _They're safe, they're safe._ Her fingers detected the steadying of her heart rate. _They're safe, they're safe._ The faint feeling was dissipating. _They're safe. I will go and see with my own eyes that they are indeed safe._ Catherine refused to be seen succumbing to weakness. She refused even to allow herself more than a fleeting acknowledgement that the Count's attempts had marked her much more significantly than she had realized. Rising, and giving herself a moment to adjust, she coaxed a faintly neutral expression to the surface. _It does not behoove women of position to display vulnerability._

AN: So I hope you all enjoyed this one. This end of this story is rapidly approaching, so this is the second to last chapter. Thank you to all who have read and thank you to my lovely beta Lina! Xo!


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